Play Me a Song, Piano Man
by ThePepperSheep
Summary: Madara, Itachi and a piano. Itachi still has a lot to learn. Their student-teacher relationship, in a different universe.


Hallo there!

If you want to get the full effect of this story – listen to Liszt's Totentanz for the piano solo. I think it suits Madara perfectly.

I do not own anything, of course.

_oooooo_

Itachi's hand balanced lightly over the keys as he paused in the middle of the first movement of _Quasi Una Fantasia. _He glanced around the parlor, silent except for the steady tick of the metronome. The diluted sunlight drifted through the light curtains his mother had painstakingly matched to the expensive furniture in the room. Itachi sighed and stretched his fingers lithely.

He had been practicing for the past five hours. He placed a hand to stop the metronome's pendulum. Since he was child, his days consisted of this: coming home from the highbrow private school he attended and sitting at the piano, perfecting scales and studying forms, until his fingers became stiff with use. Itachi sighed and let his thoughts drift to the past.

Itachi couldn't really remember a time when the piano wasn't part of his life. As a toddler, he would watch in awe as his mother, after washing the breakfast dishes, would sit gracefully at the grand piano, back straight and hands light as she played cheerful pieces that gave life to the large Uchiha country house.

And once, when he had been bored of the many toys that scattered his room, he had gone to the piano and climbed onto the bench. After a few minutes of bashing mindlessly at the keys, he recalled his favorite nursery rhyme, and slowly with unsteady fingers, began fleshing out the tune.

His mother came in from the garden and watched as Itachi played John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt clumsily on the piano.

He had only been three.

Needless to say, he was enrolled in private piano classes soon after. Since then, he had gone through countless instructors, all of whom had said he would be a great pianist one day, while they handed over their resignation papers saying they had nothing more to teach him. He hadn't disagreed with them. He performed pieces almost flawlessly and reading scores came as easily as breathing to him. For the next few years, he spent his time dissecting complicated masterpieces and performing them in straight-laced tuxes to admiring crowds. A self taught genius, though and through.

But then, his Uncle came to visit.

Itachi shuddered slightly at the thought of his Uncle. He took the scores off of the piano and began idly sifting through them as he remembered the fateful night his Uncle came to visit the family.

Uchiha Madara, who was Mikoto's older brother, had come during the holidays a year ago. Itachi had only seen him once before, at Sasuke's naming ceremony. When he'd arrived, with snowflakes clinging to his long dark hair and woolen jacket, and stood at the doorway, the home suddenly seemed much smaller. He was an imposing man, and always seemed to be two steps ahead of the rest of the world. It only made sense that he had one of the most successful oversea businesses in the country.

After a splendid meal prepared by Mikoto, the family sat in the piano parlor and sipped wine in front of the fireplace. Fugaku, a little tipsy and who could never resist trying to one up his brother-in-law, asked Itachi to play the piano. Itachi who had been playing cards with Sasuke on the floor nodded and went to the piano. He could feel his Uncle's eyes burn on his back as he slid the cover off the keys with slightly sweaty palms.

His mind went blank as he began playing the first movement of Chopin's _Nocturne Op.9 in B flat_. When the last movement had finished, his father clapped obnoxiously and loudly said "That's my son."

Madara didn't say anything, but continued to watch Itachi over the rim of his wine glass.

When the night had fallen deep, and Sasuke was sleeping curled up on the couch, only then Madara approached Itachi.

"Who's your teacher, boy?" he asked, and Itachi felt himself feeling uncharacteristically nervous. Madara had that effect on people.

"I don't have a teacher anymore," Itachi answered. "They didn't have any more to pass on to me."

Madara nodded and gazed at the fireplace. "I play the piano as well. I'll be here for the next few months. I would like to teach you some new things."

Itachi looked up at the man. Teachers had proven to be a drag on his skills. Still, it would have been rude to reject his Uncle's offer. "I would enjoy that," he said.

"Hn. I'll arrange a time with your mother, then." Madara stood up, and walked upstairs.

Itachi hadn't really expected Madara to follow through on his promise. A week later after his performance, his mother told him over breakfast that his Uncle wanted to see him at his home after school.

"You're very lucky, you know," she said softly as she took a sip from her coffee. "He's very skilled. My playing doesn't come close to his abilities. He's never offered to teach someone before.

"He is a bit… unorthodox, but I suppose that's what makes him so brilliant. I've always seen a lot of my brother in you." She gazed thoughtfully at her eldest son. "Just listen to what he says. It might not make a lot of sense, but he usually has a good reason for what he does."

Itachi nodded and finished his glass of orange juice. He grabbed his bag and headed for school.

After classes, Itachi found himself standing outside a posh apartment complex located downtown. He rang the intercom, and heard his Uncle's gruff request to come in.

His Uncle's apartment was large and tidy, with a grand piano in the corner of the living room. Madara was at his desk, talking on the phone and typing something quickly onto his laptop. He motioned for Itachi to sit. A few minutes later, Itachi heard the phone click as it was put down, and looked up. Madara was standing, and Itachi followed him quickly.

"Sit down," Madara said, pointing to the bench. He went to a bookcase in the corner and pulled out some scores. He placed them on the piano.

"I want you to play them." He sat on a chair by the piano, pulled out a book and began reading.

Itachi glanced at Madara before turning to the score. It was simple, one he had mastered playing a few years ago. He looked at the other ones. They were easy as well.

"Uncle?" Itachi said. Madara grunted in reply.

"Uncle, I already know how to play these," he said carefully. "Are there any other pieces I can play?"

Madara still hadn't looked up from his book. "No. Play the ones I gave to you."

Itachi felt a touch of irritation, but decided not to argue. He opened Mozart's _Piano Sonata in A major_ and began playing.

Half way through the first movement, Madara looked up. "Stop."

Itachi immediately stopped and turned to his Uncle. Madara looked irritated.

"Start over."

Itachi looked questioningly before flipping to the first page and restarted. A quarter into the piece Madara stopped him again.

"Start over."

Itachi hid his confusion and started from the beginning. Not a minute went by and Madara again interrupted. Itachi restrained a sigh.

"Is there something I'm doing wrong?" he asked.

"Yes. Why else would I stop you?" Madara clipped. Itachi tried to control his exasperation.

"Could you tell me what I'm doing wrong?" Madara turned to look fully at Itachi. After a few seconds of staring at his intense gaze, Itachi lowered his eyes.

"If you can't see what you're doing wrong, then you're hopeless." He said, before returning to his book. When Itachi didn't start playing he lowered his book.

"Well? Start over. I'm going to keep stopping you until you get it right."

And so Itachi's first piano lesson with his Uncle started like this. After two hours of playing and not getting past the half of the first movement, Itachi stopped and turned to face his Uncle.

"I don't see what I'm doing incorrectly. My tempo is perfect, I haven't made any mistakes." Madara who was now reclining in his chair with his feet up on the ottoman and holding a glass of brandy gazed at Itachi. He put the glass down with a loud chink, walked over to the piano, and slammed down the key cover. Itachi just pulled his fingers away in time from being crushed.

"Fine. I'll tell you what's wrong. Do you always play like you have a stick up your ass?"

Itachi stared, dumbstruck.

"Yes, your tempo is perfect. Yes, you didn't hit any wrong keys. But I've never heard a more dead performance before. There's nothing in your playing, no flexibility, no excitement. It's empty, just like the damn look you're giving me now.

"The teachers who praised you were clearly deaf. I never would have passed a student who played like you." Madara said roughly. He was bearing down on Itachi, his face only a foot away from his.

Itachi continued to stare at Madara. He couldn't remember ever being criticized in such a manner. He felt a mixture of fear and anger slowly welling up inside him. Madara picked up a score and placed it on the piano.

"Here, play this one. You've already proved useless with the other piece, maybe you'll do better with this one." He placed _Ronda Alla Turca_ in front of Itachi. Itachi turned to the piano and lifted the key cover. With slight glare in Madara's direction, he began playing.

How could he say such things about him? He had been playing for years- he knew what his abilities were. His hands began picking up speed as he thought of Madara almost _crushing_ his fingers. His father had been right. Madara was a lunatic. There was a reason Madara had been so scarce in his life –Fugaku and him did not get along. It was a mistake to come here, he thought. By this point, Itachi felt himself almost banging on the keys in frustration.

"Stop." Itachi rounded on Madara, his eyes narrowed.

"That was better. There was some life in that. We'll stop for today. Be back tomorrow at the same time." And with that Madara dismissed him. Itachi, still seething, picked up his backpack and left, slamming the door slightly when he exited.

Itachi stood up and covered the piano's keys. It had been half a year since he first began training under Madara. His Uncle decided to operate his business in Shanghai from the comfort of his flat, and remained in the city. In many ways, Itachi wasn't entirely sure how to feel about his lessons. Some days he would come back from his Uncle's, surprised at how well he played. Other times he would hurry home, terrified, especially after seeing his teacher's…mood swings. Yes, that was the word for it. Madara was volatile. One moment he would be sitting peacefully on the soft chair beside the piano listening to Itachi playing, the next grabbing something and hurling it across the room when he was displeased.

One thing always mystified him though.

He has never heard Madara play the piano.

Not once, since he began his apprenticeship under the _supposed_ master, had he seen him play a piece – not even practicing his scales. It all seemed very suspicious to Itachi.

For some time, Itachi had been wondering if his Uncle could even play the piano. The piano in his apartment didn't seem very used, and even when he instructed Itachi, he never showed him anything, just gave verbal directions.

His mother praised her brother's skill, but could her opinion be trusted? After all, her playing couldn't compare to Itachi's. Maybe Madara was just mediocre, and taunted Itachi because he was envious of his skills.

Itachi felt the discontent he'd been feeling for a while slowly surface. He had only continued with his lessons with his Uncle because he didn't want to upset his mother. It was embarrassing to think that this man, who probably couldn't play, ordered Itachi around and treated him like a buffoon. It jabbed at his pride to think of all the insults and abuse he had to take from the man.

"Why have you stopped playing?" Itachi jumped slightly and turned around. Madara was coming out of the hallway, wearing his reading glasses and a frown on his face. They were practicing in Itachi's home today because Madara was having repairs done in his house and couldn't stand the noise made by the plumbers. Itachi cleared his throat nervously.

"I've finished practicing. I'm sure I have this piece mastered," he said his confidence slowly waning as he watched Madara's gaze become more menacing. "I've been practicing for weeks."

Madara strode into the room. Itachi immediately made sure there was nothing breakable within his Uncle's reach. Madara stopped a few feet away from Itachi.

"Perfected it, eh? Well, let's hear it."

Itachi nodded tersely and sat down on the bench. He took a soft breath and began moving his fingers swiftly over the keys as he played the piece. His body swayed lightly to the tune as he pulled his own melancholy from him and pressed it lightly into the keys and felt it seeping out of the piano. Surely, he had never felt such a connection to the music than he did right now.

Madara was silent as he watched Itachi play. When the final movement ended, Itachi let out a shaky breath and turned to his mentor. He had one eyebrow raised, and amusement was written all over his face.

"So, that was the perfected _Quasi Una Fantasia_? Beethoven must be turning in his grave, if that's his mastered _magnum opus_."

Itachi felt his triumph slowly drain from him. Madara, upon seeing his student's expression, began laughing loudly.

"Boy, you should see your face. _'I've mastered this piece.'_" Madara screwed up his face in a cruel imitation._ "_Your arrogance is only matched by your incompetence."

"At least I have some talent in the piano," Itachi murmured quietly. Madara stopped laughing.

"What was that, boy?" his voice was soft, but Itachi could feel the slow pulse of rage below it. Itachi didn't back down.

"I know how to play. You have been teaching me for over half a year, and I have never seen you even practice," Itachi said, his voice steady. Everything that had been gnawing slowly at him gushed out. "I don't think you have any talent. You don't want to play in front of me because you know I'm better."

Madara didn't move, but continued to stare at Itachi, his eyes fixed like a cat's on a mouse. He moved closer to Itachi, who quickly took a step back.

"So, you think you're the expert?" he pulled the bench out roughly and sat on it. He pushed open the key cover, and slowly caressed the keys. He closed his eyes, murmuring softly to himself as he poised his hands over the keys. After a minute, his eyes snapped open, and he began playing.

His hands were chaos on the keys. '_It's Liszt's Totentanz' _Itachi thought in incredulity. His Uncle was playing _Totentanz, _without the sheet music, without any guide. Madara's large hands, which seemed to be such an ill fit to the grace a piano requires, moved with a fluidity Itachi had never seen. They ran and writhed, without any direction across the piano, never pausing, never hesitating. The rage from the piece crashed over Itachi in waves, engulfing him, and he could only hold onto the edge of the side table and ride the tide out. Never had he felt such passion, as his moods switched along with the piece's.

When Madara finished pounding out the last movement, he turned to Itachi who stood still, staring at his Uncle in shock. Madara stood up, and looked down haughtily at his stunned nephew.

"Start again from movement one. It was weak," Madara said as he walked out of the room.

Itachi sat slowly down on the bench, and began the first movement.

_oooooo_

This idea came to me after I went to a concert and saw a master pianist. I have never seen anyone play like that. It was amazing.

I also don't know anything about the piano – I took lessons for a year until I realized how much I disliked it. If they're any mistakes about music terms or something just tell me.

Reviews and criticisms are much loved!


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